


The incident

by oncetherelivedaboy



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: the backstory no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncetherelivedaboy/pseuds/oncetherelivedaboy
Summary: It had been an accident, he had never meant for anyone to get hurt, but he didn’t like bullies, never had.
Kudos: 5





	The incident

The Apollo lot were known for their beauty, their music and kindness. All of the temples provided healing, all claiming to be the best, but the Apollo paladins brought with them the warmth of the sun on a spring day.

Edward had left for the temple when he was young. His father running short on patience and his mother on good will, when the incident occurred and he was sent to the temple.

It had been an accident, he had never meant for anyone to get hurt, but he didn’t like bullies, never had.

His father had thrown a party to celebrate Edward’s older brother’s engagement. The family of the soon to be bride as well as many other noble families had gathered into the hall that day. Young women of other noble houses courting the brothers that were left, some approached Edward, they brushed hands against his arms and shoulders. He’d mostly just felt awkward, he didn’t like people touching him. There were men there as well, their fathers and brothers, though they approached Edward’s older sister. She was 17, would be old enough for a suitor soon enough, and Edward’s father kept a careful eye on the men who approached her. Appraising their name and address, keeping tabs on the ones he thought were good enough, and pointing daggers at those of lower status who dared approach.

It was one of the few parties that Edward had been allowed to attend. His father did not like him at these events, said he was too loud and attracted the wrong sorts, but he was 15 now and it would be better for him to start meeting girls now, to get a “feel for the chase” his father had said what would help him mature, but Edward didn’t feel very mature. He felt weird. His older brother pushed him towards girls, coached him on what to say and pointed out ones that in their words “worth the time” and which were “just for fun”. Edward didn’t understand these phrases, but had felt a shiver up his spine at the phrases, they seemed lewd, wrong. The women there were lovely, they always were, their dresses flowing and their hair done up.

Edward always complimented those who came by and said hello, and his brothers had scoffed at him. He complimented the men too, those who bothered to shake his hand. He’d tell them that he liked how they had styled their hair, or the tie they had chosen. Something that the person had done deliberately, because that was something you could control, and Edward wanted people to know that he appreciated the decisions that they made.

He had danced and drank, and sang as the celebration wore on. He was glad to see his brother happy, and he liked his soon to be sister in law. She was kind and beautiful and she called him Eddie instead of Edward and smiled when he talked and asked him to sing when the family sat in the smoking room after dinner.

He had tripped over his shoes after a dance, knocking into a table and spilling a glass of wine over the arm of his shirt. He had rushed to dry it with some of the napkins offered, but had ended up deciding that the best course of action would be to step out, return to his room and change. He was tired anyway, his head airy with the alcohol, though he had had only a glass or two of wine. So he slipped out of the ballroom, into the hall way where a few people mingled away from the band and crowds to talk quietly. He stumbled as he walked, accidently tredding on the foot of servant boy who was passing, carrying a tray of Hors d'oeuvres. The boy fell forward, Edward reaching out to catch him realizing his mistake. The tray went flying.

Edward went red when the servant, someone new his father had hired for the event began apologizing profusely to Edward.

“It’s fine, really.” Edward said. “It happens.” He didn’t see the man coming up behind him, a mark from the spilled food on the collar of his shirt. Edward didn’t see the man until his hand connected with the side of the young man’s face. The servant crumpled, apologizing, again and again.

“You little fool,” The man roared. “Look at the mess you’ve made.”

“That’s really not necessary.” Edward said, turning to face the man, putting himself before the servant and the man. He was only a few years older than Edward, maybe 19, where did he get off on yelling at people for little mistakes. “We have spare clothes if you need…” The man pressed forward, pushing Edward out of the way. He kicked at the boy on the floor, ignoring Edward’s words. The boy on the floor cried out in pain as the blows continued.

“I said that wasn’t necessary.” Edward said again, stepping forward again and shoving the man back. The man stumbled backwards, nearly losing his footing.

“Don’t you know who I am young man.” He said.

“Enough,” Eddie said. “It was a mistake. Leave him alone.” The man tries to step forward again, Eddie holds his ground, the man swings. Edward ducks and throws a punch. He’s never thrown a real punch before. He and his brothers had fought growing up, put the punches were always pulled, even their fencing lessons were purely for show. He feels the explosion of pain in his hand as it collides with the man’s cheek.

It all happens so fast after that. The man hits the floor, his head bouncing off the stone floor as he does. He sees the door open and his father step out into the hallway, and he sees the shock of the onlookers as he stands there. His knuckles are bloody, the boy behind him is whimpering, the man in front of him is still. His father just shakes his head, his lips tight.

“Go upstairs Edward.” He says, and gestures for a guard to take Edward to his room. He spends the next week under a sort of house arrest. His father trying to ease tensions within the noble circles, as he learned from overhead conversations, the man he had punched was his father’s top selection for his sister. He was alive, Edward hadn’t killed him, but he’d had to be rushed to a healer. Edward felt awful about it all, had just wanted to help. He didn’t know what happened to the servant after that. He listened to the guards at the door as they spoke in hushed voices, whispering about their charge. The story had become warped, suddenly it was an outburst born out his stupidity and rage. Edward didn’t really care what people thought of him, he knew they thought he was dumb, knew that he couldn’t hold a conversation, or keep eye-contact, or pay attention to who was “important” and who wasn’t. He didn’t care that the man he’d punched held three times as much land as his father, what he’d done wasn’t right, and he wasn’t going to let him beat some kid because of an accident.

His father comes in at the end of the week, his face stern.

“Pack your things Edward.” He had said, and Edward had done as he was told. No one bid him farewell as the guards escorted him from his family home the next morning, his brothers say nothing as they converse in the doorways he passes. He does not know where he is going. The carriage takes him to a train station, and the train to France and an awaiting cleric named Frederick, and the cleric takes him Notre Dame.

**Author's Note:**

> me: i'm gonna write shippy stuff  
> Me instead: I'm gonna write backstories.  
> I'm a mess, but a mess that got into grad school and was offered a GTA this week (idk how it happened either)  
> tumblr is oncetherelivedaboy.tumblr.com


End file.
